Inspirational Quotes by John Donne

“...but come bad chance And wee joyne to it our strength And wee teach it art and length It selfe o'er us to advance.”

“Poor heretics there be, Which think to establish dangerous constancy, But I have told them, ‘Since you will be true, You shall be true to them, who are false to you.”

“BUSY old fool, unruly Sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains, call on us? Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run ? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late school-boys and sour prentices, Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices ; Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.”

“Thy sins and hairs may no man equal call, for as thy sins increase, thy hairs do fall.”

“For this, Love is enraged with me; Yet kills not. If I must example be To future rebels, if the unborn Must learn by my being cut up and torn, Kill and dissect me, Love; for this Torture against thine own end is: Racked carcasses make ill anatomies”

“Out of a fired ship, which by no way But drowning could be rescued from the flame, Some men leap'd forth, and ever as they came Near the foes' ships, did by their shot decay; So all were lost, which in the ship were found, They in the sea being burnt, they in the burnt ship drown'd.”

“All measure, and all language, I should pass, Should I tell what a miracle she was.”

“O! I shall soon despair, when I shall see That Thou lovest mankind well, yet wilt not choose me, And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.”

“Twice or thrice had I lov'd thee, Before I knew thy face or name”

“If they be so two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two, Thy soul the fixed foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if th' other do. And though it in the centre sit, Yet when the other dar doth roam, It leans, and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must Like the other foot, obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end, where I begun.”

“Stay, O sweet, and do not rise; The light that shines comes from thine eyes; The day breaks not, it is my heart, Because that you and I must part.”

“He is stark mad, whoever says, That he hath been in love an hour, Yet not that love so soon decays, But that it can ten in less space devour ; Who will believe me, if I swear That I have had the plague a year? Who would not laugh at me, if I should say I saw a flash of powder burn a day? Ah, what a trifle is a heart, If once into love's hands it come ! All other griefs allow a part To other griefs, and ask themselves but some ; They come to us, but us love draws ; He swallows us and never chaws ; By him, as by chain'd shot, whole ranks do die ; He is the tyrant pike, our hearts the fry. If 'twere not so, what did become Of my heart when I first saw thee? I brought a heart into the room, But from the room I carried none with me. If it had gone to thee, I know Mine would have taught thine heart to show More pity unto me ; but Love, alas ! At one first blow did shiver it as glass. Yet nothing can to nothing fall, Nor any place be empty quite ; Therefore I think my breast hath all Those pieces still, though they be not unite ; And now, as broken glasses show A hundred lesser faces, so My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore, But after one such love, can love no more.”

“Annunciation Salvation to all that will is nigh; That All, which always is all everywhere, Which cannot sin, and yet all sins must bear, Which cannot die, yet cannot choose but die, Lo, faithful virgin, yields Himself to lie In prison, in thy womb; and though He there Can take no sin, nor thou give, yet He will wear, Taken from thence, flesh, which death's force may try. Ere by the spheres time was created, thou Wast in His mind, who is thy Son and Brother; Whom thou conceivst, conceived; yea thou art now Thy Maker's maker, and thy Father's mother; Thou hast light in dark, and shuts in little room, Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb.”

“Away thou fondling motley humorist, Leave mee, and in this standing woodden chest, Consorted with these few bookes, let me lye In prison, and here be coffin'd, when I dye; Here are Gods conduits, grave Divines; and here Natures Secretary, the Philosopher; And jolly Statesmen, which teach how to tie The sinewes of a cities mistique bodie; Here gathering Chroniclers, and by them stand Giddie fantastique Poets of each land. Shall I leave all this constant company, And follow headlong, wild uncertaine thee?”

“OK,’ they say: ‘things have been bad. They may be bad again; they may not. In the meantime, let’s take heart with the day. Let’s begin again and see what happens.”

“Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore My love was infinite, if spring makes it more.”

“If that be simply perfectest Which can by no way be expresst But negatives, my love is so. To All, which all love, I say no. Negative Love”

“I wonder, by my troth, what thou, and I Did, till we lov'd.”

“But, O alas! so long, so far, Our bodies why do we forbear?”

“My world's both parts, and 'o! Both parts must die.”